


United We Fall

by stupidlilartist



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Kidnapped Derek Morgan, Kidnapped Emily Prentiss, Kidnapped Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Kidnapped Penelope Garcia, Kidnapped Spencer Reid, Torture, appearances are based off season 4, but otherwise there is no set time, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidlilartist/pseuds/stupidlilartist
Summary: During a Saturday night out, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and Penelope Garcia are kidnapped by a group of vengeful men. With their disappearance, Hotch and Rossi have practically nothing left. With the help of a few past co-workers and contacts, they are hoping to find them and bring them home - alive. Though the clock is ticking and they aren't sure how much time they have left.
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan & The BAU Team, Emily Prentiss & The BAU Team, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & The BAU Team, Penelope Garcia & Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia & The BAU Team, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Welcome, Agents

**Author's Note:**

> hi, welcome! before we get started, i'd like to mention the tw's. this book involves graphic descriptions of torture, uncomfortable sexual comments, sexual harassment, the usual criminal minds fiasco.

"Can we leave now? I'm surrounded by too many drunks and a girl asked if I was a lesbian." Spencer Reid begged overtop the loud music, tugging on Derek's loose, tan shirt. "I don't even look like a girl!"

Morgan laughed, excusing himself from the drunk girl he was dancing with. He allowed Reid to tug him away from the dance floor and to the bar. Emily and Penelope occupied a stool and the blonde visibly had a few too many drinks. She played with her dangling earrings - which were gold with referee pug charms at the end - before finding the presence of her sweets Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid.

"Oh, the love of my life!" She exclaimed, grabbing the cheeks of Morgan and pressing her lips firmly against his forehead. When she pulled away, a bright pink lipstick stain was left. Her eyes met Reid's and she repeated her actions, "And our firstborn child!"

Morgan giggled, wiping the pink makeup away as he spoke, "I say we find JJ and get out of here. The kid is getting sleepy, and you know how he gets cranky when he's tired." He teased, gently jostling Reid's side.

"I don't get cranky!" Reid argued.

Prentiss laughed, nodding her head, "I think we should call it a night, too."

"Oh, em gee!" Garcia's brows shot up and a wide smile spread across her bright face. "Let's have a slumber party at my place! It'd be so fun!"

"I don't have any pajamas," Reid replied bluntly.

She rolled her eyes, waving her hand around as if to say 'who cares?'.

"So? I have so many onesies you can borrow! Please!" Garcia dropped to the floor and onto her knees, pressing her palms together.

Reid glanced to Morgan before returning to Penelope, who was on the verge of bursting into sobs.

"Yes, yes! I'll come!" He agreed, helping her off the floor.

Morgan reached over the two to high-five Prentiss, "Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us!"

The group retrieved JJ, who was playing beer pong with a group of guys who totally fancied her and would make a move if they had the guts to. JJ would've rejected them anyway. The semi-new mom just needed a break from the stress of motherhood, relationships, and work, so decided to go out with her friends. She did miss her boys, though, but a night at Garcia's sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime type of fun. 

They found themselves walking through a parking garage. The floor they were on was practically empty. Their footsteps echoed through the facility as they made their way to the vehicle. As they approached their black SUV, however, they noticed a white van with tinted windows. In fact, the windows were too tinted for the likings of the FBI agents. This caused them to stop in their tracks, staring curiously at the mysterious vehicle.

"That's awfully fishy," Emily stated and the others agreed.

"Stay here, I'm going to try and get in the car." Morgan declared, beginning to shuffle his way to their vehicle. Though Prentiss was told to stay put, she followed closely behind.

Unfortunately, nobody was carrying their gun. If they needed to fight, the only things they had were their fists. Garcia slipped her hand into Reid's, hoping to receive comfort from her boy wonder but both of them were nervous. Morgan and Emily were able to reach the car with no problems. They heard a sigh of relief from JJ and Garcia removed her grip on Reid.

Just as they thought the coast was clear, the van doors all simultaneously opened and six men jumped out. Garcia and Reid began running for their dear lives but were quickly grabbed by a man. They struggled beneath their strong hold, but then felt a needle in their neck and everything went black after that.

Morgan had been successfully taking down one of the men. Obviously, that didn't come without blows to his face, but he was confident that he had beaten the man up enough to avoid anything from happening. However, a needle was thrown with pinpoint accuracy through the air, sticking Morgan in the neck. Startled, he reached up to see what it was and the man quickly pressed the drug into him. He didn't last much longer after that.

JJ and Prentiss had each been fighting a man as well, rage in their eyes and fury in their fists. The men were shocked at how good of fighters they revealed themselves to be. Though the second Emily let her guard down as a man carried Spencer's limp body into the van, she was punched hard enough and riddled unconscious. JJ's heart pounded with adrenaline and she had to act fast if there was any hope. She knew she couldn't fight all six men by herself - they were all tall and muscular. If she stayed, she would likely not make it out willingly. So, she ran. She ran as if her life depended on it - and it did. She ran in hopes of ever seeing Will or her son ever again. She ran to save her friends. However, she was grabbed and drugged. There was no escape.

His eyes cracked open. His head felt as if it was spinning and his brain felt one hundred pounds. His vision was hazy at first, but once it cleared, he caught sight of Reid in the corner. He was still unconscious, his body limply leaning on the cold, steel wall. He had been stripped to his underwear, and feeling the cold air hit his skin, Morgan realized he had been stripped as well. 

His gaze darted to the right, finding bunk beds that were simply just blocks of metal and a blanket made of potato sacks. Turning to the left, he saw metal bars and realized he and Reid were in a prison cell. Across from them was an empty cell. He began worrying about JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss. He stood, gripping the jail cell bars tightly with his goose-bump ridden hands. Morgan clenched his teeth, attempting to render the bars open enough for their escape. He grew frustrated and gave the cell door a rough shake. The sound of clattering metal echoed through the room.

Footsteps began approaching and Derek furrowed his brows. He was going to rip this man apart one way or another. The person possessing the footsteps revealed himself. A tall, caucasian man with long, brown hair and matching, evil brown eyes. He was seemingly a bodybuilder in his spare time by the looks of his muscles. On his chest was a nametag. Milo.

"Don't waste your breath." His voice was deep and raspy. A small smile crept upon his thin lips.

Derek didn't reply, staring him down with angry eyes and a threatening expression. Milo pounded his fist roughly against his left hand that had been wrapped around the prison bars. A snap was heard and Morgan yelped, pulling his hands back. His middle finger immediately swelled and bruised. Without missing another beat, he bottled up his pain to show this man that he wasn't scared.

"What is going on?" Reid asked, sounding as if he just woke up. The smaller man wrapped his thin arms around his torso in an attempt to cover himself. He furrowed a confused brow before his hazel eyes met Milo's. He ripped them away and stared at Morgan, shock, and fear plastered on his face. His breathing picked up a fast pace and he wasn't sure what to think. "Why are you doing this?" He didn't dare to look at the man again.

Milo softly chuckled, beginning to walk away, "Figure it out, Agent."

As he walked away, the boys stared at each other in both fear and confusion. Morgan sat down against the wall and Reid sheepishly scrambled towards him. The smaller man gently took his hand and examined his middle finger. It was purple and swollen, they both cringed at the sight. Though, they didn't mention his visibly broken finger, more worried about how they were going to get out.

"What do we do?" Spencer asked quietly.

As much as Derek wanted to hug him and tell him it was going to be alright, he couldn't make false promises. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and frowned. He stared at the floor for a moment, trying to process what was going on. 

Eventually, he spoke, "We'll figure it out." 

Emily's dark eyes fluttered open, wincing at the pain that seared through her forehead and cheek. Bringing her cold fingers to her face, she found that her eye was swollen. Then, she remembered the van. The men. Reid being dragged away. It all slowly came back to her and she finally looked up from the floor. JJ was still unconscious, but Garcia had woken up, softly crying with her back to the wall. All three had been ridden of their clothes and left in their undergarments. 

"Penelope," She whispered, crawling towards her. 

Garcia's eyes met hers and her pupils shrank. She was clearly a lot more scared than Emily. Her frantic pants were the only thing she could offer as a reply, for her words were blocked by a lump in her throat.

"Garcia, I need you to calm down. They want you to freak out, don't give them what they want." She urged, grabbing the other woman's hands and holding them tightly. She brushed her thumbs over her knuckles in an attempt to calm her down, and to her surprise, it worked a bit.

Emily examined the cell. Right off the bat, she realized the men who kidnapped them wanted to treat them as if they were prisoners. She put two and two together - perhaps these men were recently released from prison or the BAU had locked up a loved one. As she stared at the metal bars that separated her and her best friends from the outside world, a man faded into her sightline. 

The man was pale, tall, skinny, and blond. He was lanky but proved that he was strong during the fight for their lives. If Emily were to guess whether or not he was a criminal based on his looks, she would say that he was the purest man in the country. His eyes were doe-like and dimples grew on his cheeks when he smirked, staring at them. His name-tag read 'Johnny'.

"Where are Derek and Spencer?" Garcia asked. Her tone was panicked, yet threatening. Emily had sworn she's never seen her so angry.

"We separated you based on gender, just like a real prison," Johnny replied, flashing them a toothy smile.

"Where are our clothes?" Emily finally spoke up, interrupting her thoughts as a profiler.

Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, "You people deserve the same humiliation prisoners face every day."

With that, he walked off. The womens' eyes followed them with rage before hearing a mutter. They both moved towards JJ as she slowly woke up. When she did, it didn't take long for the panic to set in.

"Where are we? Where are Morgan and Spence?" She asked, worry contorting her face as she grabbed and held on to both of their arms. 

They were all shivering, goosebumps covering their exposed skin. Emily wrapped her arms around them and moved closer. Penelope and JJ got the idea and the girls began to huddle for warmth. They never thought the day would come where they had to do that, but each other's presence was both warming and calming.

"We've been kidnapped by people who look at us as prisoners. Morgan and Reid are in a different cell." Johnny's words repeated in Prentiss's head. They wanted them to be humiliated and cold. To panic and suffer.

Garcia began to sob once again, squeezing her eyes shut, "How are we supposed to get out?"

"Hotch and Rossi will find us, they have to!" JJ exclaimed, nodding her head as if to reassure herself.

Penelope's tearful brown eyes opened suddenly and she let out a shaky sigh. "What if they don't?"

Neither of them had a response to her question, so they avoided it completely. Instead, Emily pulled them into a three-sided hug and spoke sternly.

"No matter what happens, we will not let anything happen to each other!" She said, "Remember that poem Reid recited to us recently?

JJ let out a giggle, but it was laced with fear, "It was such a cheesy poem."

"But it applies to what's going on now," Emily replied.

Garcia nodded as a few lines of the poem came back to her, "Together we stand, united we fall."

Hearing approaching footsteps, they moved away from each other and into different sides of the room. Three men appeared, Johnny, and two new faces with the nametags 'Cyrus' and 'Luther'. They all held clattering hand-cuffs. Johnny and Cyrus both held more than just hand-cuffs, they also possessed a gun. Garcia's heart sunk to her stomach, remembering the last time she was shot. 

"W-what are you doing?" Penelope stumbled over her words.

"If anybody makes a run for it, you die," Cyrus said dryly, pulling a key out of his pants pocket. "Understand?"

The women frantically nodded and the cell door was opened just enough so the kidnappers could slip in. Their chance of escaping was right there, but nobody made a run for it. They couldn't risk it, they barely knew these men enough to determine whether or not they would actually shoot. They allowed their hands to be forcefully pulled behind their backs and cuffed together. As much as they wanted to kick or headbutt them, they held back. The chance of survival was still on the table. 

They each had a man roughly pull them out of the cell. They walked through the halls. They were dark and empty, the sound of dripping water from an abandoned public restroom piercing their ears. A few broken photographs of officers killed on the job hung from the walls. A single lightbulb flickered above them. Kidnapped or not, the setting alone was startling.

The agents were taken to a room in the back. As the door opened, they found Morgan and Reid, standing with their hands cuffed just like theirs. They were just as scared as they were, but Morgan was doing a good job at hiding it and replacing it with anger. The ladies were lined up beside them, shoulder to shoulder. JJ reached her pinky out subtly and touched Reid's. He flinched at first but then sunk into her touch. They stared ahead at their captors who grouped together as well. Johnny, Cyrus, Milo, Luther, Iman, and Weston - their nametags read from left to right. Johnny and Weston firmly pointed their pistols at them in case someone would try and make their escape.

"Welcome to your new life!" Iman exclaimed cheerfully, a smile spreading across his face. He was missing one of his front teeth while the others were a combination of yellow and brown.

They didn't reply, only staring back with terror or fury. 

"We have a few rules we'd like to go over with you." Milo started, beginning to pace around the front of the room as if he was a teacher. "Rule number one, no running when the cell door is open. Number two, no punching, kicking, violence of any kind. Not by you, at least. Finally, number three - speak when spoken to. Understand?"

They remained silent and Milo furrowed his brows.

"Understand?" He repeated, raising his voice threateningly.

Startled, they vocalized that they understood. He smiled, snickering quietly.

"Fail to follow the rules and someone will die. Maybe not you, maybe not even someone you share a cell with." Milo paused, taking a gun from Weston. His fingers played around the trigger as he continued, "For example, if Zeus over here decides to make a run for it," He drew his gun, pointing it at Derek and slowly shifting it towards Spencer, "I would shoot String Bean between the eyes."

Reid closed his eyes, expecting to hear the gun go off. Yet, it didn't, and the kidnappers laughed at his fear. JJ's touch made him open his eyes and find her sympathetic smile. He gave her a slight shrug before turning back to the men, who began to speak once again.

"When you need to go to the bathroom, just keep calling for one of us and we'll bring you a bucket," Johnny stated politely. He examined their expressions and chuckled at their sufferings - or perhaps, sufferings-to-be.

"You'll have lunch every day around noon, which is when this place gets it's coldest." Weston said, "Sometimes when we're feeling nice, we'll bring you a jumpsuit to wear. Don't expect it often."

Johnny interjected, "You will not get lunch if you are in the box, though." He paused, an evil grin forming on his face. "Any questions?"

Garcia hesitantly raised her hand, receiving glances from her co-workers. The men nodded towards her.

"What is the box?" She winced, expecting the very worse reply.

Then, the men burst into a fit of laughter once again. It cleared very quickly though, and they were able to pull themselves together to answer the dreaded question.

"Every other day, we'll choose someone to be sent to the box. The box is a special room where we'll take you to make sure you're suffering just as bad as those you put in prison. Fear not, after twenty-four hours," Milo put a precise finger up, raising his brows, "Exactly twenty-four hours, you'll return back to the warmth of your cell and cellmates."

"Ladies, if you need medical supplies," Johnny hissed, cringing at his next sentence, "Such as feminine products, just ask. We're a lot kinder than you think."

His disgust at mentioning feminine supplies suggested to the profilers that he was misogynic, a little bit, at least.

"And boys, please wait till we go to sleep to engage in heteroflexible acts." Weston pulled his brows together exaggeratingly. He was making fun of them.

The men glanced at each other, unsure of how to react. This caused their captors to chuckle together for a third time.

"It happens a lot more in prison than you may think." Weston continued.

Morgan found Johnny's eyes and the man glared. He pulled Milo aside. The agents saw them whispering amongst each other. As profilers, they determined that Johnny and Milo trusted each other more than anybody else in the group.

"The look in the big guy's eyes. He isn't scared. I want him to be put in the box first." He whispered into Milo's ear, putting a hand up as a wall to prevent them from lip-reading.

Milo agreed and they regrouped. They scrambled to different one of their victims, taking a hold of them and returning them back to their cells. However, Reid went alone. Once he realized Morgan wasn't with him, his eyes filled with tears of worry. When he was left alone, he stuffed himself into the corner and let out all the tears he's been wanting to cry since he's woken up.

"Welcome to the box, Agent." Johnny hummed.

Morgan refused to give him a reaction. But then, the lights flickered on and his terror finally presented itself on his face. 

Hanging from a pole on the wall were long chains that ended in cuffs. There was a metal board with restraints for the victim's wrist, head, ankles, and abdomen. The last restraint device was a wooden chair with a pair of hand-cuffs connected to it, similar to the one that Hankle used when he had taken Reid. The walls were full of torture devices hanging from nails - ranging from something as small as a fork to a chainsaw. Every imaginable tool used to inflict agonizing pain was in that room. Despite the torture, this room was visibly used for, it was completely clean. No blood drops or even traces of it. Derek realized his blood was likely the first to splatter on the walls.


	2. Missing

The number of hours that have passed since Morgan was in the box was unknown to Reid, but he assumed it was the next day. He hadn't shut his eyes for a second. He couldn't sleep knowing Morgan was probably getting beaten or worse. Dried tear tracks ran down his cheeks and to his jaw and he hadn't left his spot in the corner since they were put back in their cells. When the men walked by, he refused to make eye contact. 

Spencer had to reassure himself that today was Monday. Hotch and Rossi would realize they were gone and begin their search. His body had gotten used to the cold temperature by now, but if they planned to embarrass him by ridding him of his clothes - it worked. Without Morgan, he was a lot more apprehensive and worried. He only hoped that he was okay.

Derek had been restrained firmly to the metal board. He couldn't move a muscle and he had given up on struggling to get out. He hadn't been beaten too badly. His lip was swollen and bloody and his collarbone had a series of bruises painted on it, but overall he was fine. Broken bones were a lot better than what he had imagined would happen to him when he arrived. 

He was alone. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of his soft breathing instead of the pain in his finger, face, and collarbone. The agent reassured himself that this could be worse and he's suffered from a lot more pain than this before. Perhaps the room was only meant to scare them. Morgan shook the thought away, knowing that wasn't true. These men sought revenge - they wanted to hurt them, not just scare them. He determined that they were hesitant since this was their first time performing torture. He prayed that by the time they were more confident with their torturing abilities, he was dead or rescued.

The door creaked open and in came a slim, shadowy figure. As it shuffled towards the lightbulb that hung above his head, he realized it was Johnny. He brought a finger out, tracing the man's bicep muscles. Derek refused to give him a reaction, staring straight ahead at a shiny, metal wrench. 

"You're quite the muscular type, Agent." Johnny hummed, gripping his bicep and giving it a squeeze. He looked at Morgan's face, but he wasn't paying attention. "You could very easily beat me in a fight."

Morgan's breath hitched, but otherwise, he remained stone-faced. The blond man moved to the wall, brushing his hand across the many torture devices that hung from it. His hand eventually wrapped around a small scalpel. This caught Derek's eye. 

Johnny approached him with the tool, pressing it against the middle of his chest. It was enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to which he would require stitches. He moved the knife down his abdomen, leaving a trail behind him. Morgan, still, remained expressionless as he stared ahead at the same wrench. The criminal jumped the knife over his boxers and continued his trail down his thigh, knee, and shin. He paused suddenly, just when his leg met his foot. A million thoughts raced through Morgan's mind, but he refused to give this sick bastard any sign of panic or pain.

The cold blade lifted off of him, for a second he thought it was over. Then, he felt a sharp, piercing pain that radiated throughout the muscles in his foot. His eyes darted down to find that the scalpel had been forced into his heel and roughly taken out. He gritted his teeth and flexed his jaw, trying to hold back his scream of agony, but a few grunts escaped.

Warm, dark red blood spewed out of his wound and dripped from his restraints onto the floor. He scowled as Johnny wiped the knife off with a rag and hung it back in its place. Then, he wrapped it around his wound, securing it together with a thumbnail he had put through the fabric to slow the bleeding.

Johnny smiled up at the man who breathed heavily in pain, "I don't want you dying just yet." 

Derek's glared as he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them back. His foot pulsated and sharp pains erupted over and over. Blood continued to drip on the floor, forming a small puddle. It drove him crazy.

As an attempt to move his focus from his pain, he began thinking about a possible escape plan. It wouldn't be easy, being as that they are always armed. Perhaps he could pry the bars open and escape that way. It would be time-consuming, but worth it in the end. They would surely die soon, especially since they weren't too sure how to torture. Even if they don't mean to kill them, it could be accidental. They had to get out before that could happen.

Just as Reid, the women didn't get much sleep either. Garcia had dozed off a bit, but otherwise, they stayed up all night. It was awfully quiet between them, they had nothing to say that wasn't already spoken or obvious. They had sat on the floor, leaning against the wall uncomfortably.

"Rossi and Hotch have to know we're gone by now." JJ stated, "They'll start looking for us."

Penelope sighed and slumped her shoulders, "Don't get my hopes up."

This caused the other two to arch a brow. Garcia was usually an optimist no matter the situation. Everything happens for a reason - she says. She still believed that, but she also had reason to believe that she was going to die there. She was scared more than the other two. Emily and JJ were used to being thrown into dangerous situations, while she had been safe on the other side of the screen. 

"Penelope, these men don't want to kill us." Emily reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

Garcia only shrugged, shaking her head in disbelief, "I wish we were with Reid and Morgan."

JJ nodded in agreement as Emily continued.

"The sooner Rossi and Hotch realize we're gone, the sooner we'll be rescued." 

"Oh, please let the men with great hair who wear suits find us soon!" Penelope attempted to lighten the mood, but heavy footsteps began approaching them.

Cyrus, Milo, and Weston appeared on the other side of the cell. The lock rattled as Weston opened the door. The women stood up quickly as they entered with handcuffs. They were restrained and harshly pulled through the building. They were going in a different direction than the last time. Their chests tightened with fear as they were brought to the unknown. Expecting the worse, but got nearly the complete opposite - they were brought to a cafeteria.

"It's time for breakfast," Milo hummed, shutting the cafeteria door.

The girls immediately took notice of Spencer, already taking a seat at one of the tables. He had wrapped his arms around his upper body, shivering. The mess hall was a lot colder than what they've been in - goosebumps spread across their exposed skin. Their handcuffs were removed and Emily would've taken a swing at the guy if she hadn't noticed the gun in his pocket. 

They sat with Reid. He was happy to see them, almost uttering a smile if the situation had been different. He reached across the table, grabbing JJ's hands. Though, they were more worried about Morgan's absence.

"Where is Derek?" Garcia asked, worry painting her face.

"The box," Spencer muttered, his voice raspy from crying.

Penelope gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. 

"As I said, their intentions aren't to kill us," Emily repeated her statement from earlier, hoping to comfort her friends.

"He's been there all night," Reid added, blankly staring at his lap and taking his hands away from JJ's to hug himself once again.

They stayed completely silent as they were served their meal - a piece of bread and a water bottle. They were shocked to be even served breakfast. The thought of poison crossed their minds, but Emily immediately confirmed it to be untrue. The brunette stated that they didn't go through all this trouble just to poison them. They should eat, gather strength. 

"Who says we'll be served breakfast again?" She brought up.

The others agreed. It made sense. Prentiss noticed their hesitation and decided to prove that the bread was safe. She took a small bite. It tasted fine, and after it had been in her system for a few minutes, the others began eating theirs as well.

The men had guarded each corner of the large room, a gun in their hands. It was intimidating, but luckily they were given privacy. It was unusual to see this much sympathy in a psychopathic group - but they were being treated like prisoners - and even criminals got the luxury of a little bit of privacy.

Spencer rubbed his bloodshot eyes before bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin against them. He had visibly cried all night and the eye bags beneath his eyes were worse than usual. He found himself getting tearful.

"It's going to be alright, Spence. Rossi and Hotch are out looking for us now." JJ reassured, brows pulling together as a tear slipped out and rolled down his cheek.

He shook his head, hiding his face in his knees, "I want to see my mom."

"Oh, my boy wonder." Penelope began getting misty as well.

"I want to wear clothes and read a book. We've been here a day and I already can't think straight." He mumbled, his voice muffled slightly.

They only frowned. Attempting to comfort him when he clearly couldn't calm down - especially with Morgan being away - was useless. He had been kidnapped once already and knew just how bad it was, despite being saved in the end, it took a huge toll on him. 

The agents ate in silence, praying that Hotch and Rossi would somehow come to their rescue any second.

Aaron Hotchner stepped into the BAU. He had clocked in a bit late due to a temper tantrum Jack had thrown early this morning. It wasn't the biggest deal in the world, he was only a couple of minutes later than usual. However, he expected to find his team working busily in the bullpen and found none of that. In fact, they weren't even there. 

Furrowing a brow, he made his way to Rossi's office. The Italian was at his desk, scribbling away on some paperwork. When Hotch stepped in, he paused his work and greeted him with a smile.

"Good morning." He said.

Hotch shook his head, putting a hand up to dismiss his happy expressions, "Have you seen the rest of the team?"

The other man frowned, shaking his head. "Are they not here?"

"It's not like it for any of them to be this late." Hotch pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number.

"Who are you calling?"

"Will." 

He put it on speaker-phone. The men listened to the other line ring before hearing Will's voice.

"Hello?" He answered, his voice groggy as if he had just woken up. In the background, they could hear Henry cooing and babbling.

"Is JJ there?" Hotch asked.

"No, I haven't seen her, I thought she was over there. Is something wrong?" They could tell Will was growing worried.

"She didn't show up for work. When's the last time you seen her?" 

"She went out Saturday night with Spencer, Derek, Penelope, and Emily, I believe, and said she was spending Sunday at Penelope's. She said she needed a lil' break." Will stated, becoming increasingly more concerned as he realized JJ had been gone for nearly three days and he's barely heard from her. He had been so busy with Henry, he didn't have time to shoot her a text or check if she had called. Initially, he began blaming himself for anything that might've happened to her.

"Okay, we're going to go to her house and check on them. We'll call you back when we get there." Rossi said and Hotch hung up.

What's left of the BAU team rushed out into the parking lot and into one of their issued SUV's. 

"Do you think that maybe they're just really hungover?" Rossi suggested, but Hotch shook his head.

"Reid doesn't drink often and either way, they're all responsible enough to remember they have work in the morning." He replied, eyes locked on the road ahead of him.

They arrived at Penelope Garcia's house shortly. Both noticed the driveway and how there was no car. That wasn't a good sign. They rushed out and to the door, knocking a few times. After several times of waiting for a response, they let themselves in. The men split up, searching through different rooms of the house but in the end, found that they weren't there. Hotch stood in the living room, completely dumbfounded and shocked. Practically his whole team was missing and he hadn't a clue where to start.

"Aaron," Rossi snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"We've got a case on our hands."


	3. A Few Hours

Derek Morgan had never been more tired and hungry, not to mention the pain throughout his body. He was sure he only had a few hours left in the box before he was brought back. Still, even in the cold cell with Reid, he'd be suffering without a doubt. 

He had been beaten a bit more since he was so brutally stabbed. Bruises ran up and down his muscular abdomen and he was completely sure he had at least one broken rib amongst it all. Nothing could compare to the sharp, pulsating agony in his foot. Warm blood had soaked the rag that was used to clot the bleeding. The crimson liquid began dripping on the floor once again, splashing into the small puddle and causing a bigger one to form. Morgan's muscles had grown stiff and painful due to the lack of movement throughout his time spent in the box. All in all, he was miserable.

The door opened and his eyes darted to Johnny, approaching him with a sweet smile. Morgan noticed how the blond was the only one to ever enter the room, despite there being five others. Perhaps Johnny was the boss or the one to get down and do the dirty work, while the other's just enjoyed the fact that they were suffering. 

"I think Stringbean misses you," He was referring to Spencer. Derek scowled at the mention of his best friend. If he had done anything to him, he wouldn't hesitate to wrap his hands around his throat and choke him, guns or no guns. "He's spent most of his time crying or just sitting. What do you think he's thinking about?"

"I'd say he's thinking about locking you up for life," Morgan growled, glaring so coldly at the man - Johnny was sure he would've been mercilessly beaten if he wasn't restrained.

The criminal let out a joyful laugh, shaking his head at Morgan's quite silly remark. He moved to the wall full of torture devices. He played with a few of the handles, figuring out which weapon felt best in the moment. His device of choice: a fork. Derek's raging eyes followed him as he shuffled towards him, gripping the fork so tightly his knuckles turned a ghost white. The agent took a deep breath, preparing himself. He would not let himself scream - it's what Johnny wanted. 

His capturer reached up, standing to his tip-toes to reach the palm of his right hand. Using the teeth of the fork, he gently brushed the object over the creases on it. He circled his thumb, overlined his fingers, scratched back and forth over and over until his palm turned red. Morgan didn't react. In fact, it barely even stung. Johnny brought the fork back before harshly forcing tines into his skin and through the muscle of his right hand. 

It started with a burning sensation before sharp pain erupted throughout Derek's palm, spreading to his fingers and going down his forearm. His eyes screwed shut and he bit his bottom lip hard - it reopened an already existing wound. No matter how hard he tried to show he wasn't in pain, a few grunts and groans escaped his mouth. His breathing heightened into hyperventilating pants. He felt his blood spew out of his palm and run down the length of his arm, dripping off of his elbow.

Johnny ripped the object out of his skin, the bright red liquid squirting out of four newly created holes in his hand and onto his face and shirt. The pain was unbearable - Derek felt as if he couldn't breathe. He trashed in the restraints, even if he knew there was no chance of him getting out. Blood spewed out and rushed down his arm like a waterfall. The blond wiped the fork clean with a new rag before tying it tightly around his palm. It immediately soaked with blood, but he figured it'd have to do. 

As he hung the fork on the wall, he turned back to see the agent gasping for air, his face contorted with agony.

"You have a few hours left before you can reunite with the other prisoners for dinner." With that, he left.

Emily, JJ, and Garcia had returned to their cell after lunch just about an hour ago. This meal was a bit bigger: a water bottle, a piece of fresh bread, and a few carrots. Unlike breakfast, they were completely silent as their kidnappers had ate with them. It was a terrifying experience.

The ladies were sat on the floor, barebacks against the cold walls once again. They yearned to break free from this damned cell and run. Run till they could run no longer. But they couldn't. So, they sat.

"I have to pee," Penelope muttered a whine, brows pulling together. "But I need privacy."

"I doubt we'll get privacy for that." Emily said dryly.

Her eyes shifted from Garcia's pout to JJ's cold, tearful eyes. She had stared straight ahead at the wall, fighting tears that threatened to fall.

"What's wrong?" The brunette asked, crawling over to her friend to put a gentle hand on her shivering shoulder. 

Garcia made her way to the other two as well. She grabbed JJ's hand and intertwined their fingers together. JJ uttered a small smile at the gesture, but it quickly faded into a frown.

"What if I never see Henry again?" She whispered, a tear escaping and falling down her rosey cheeks.

"JJ, Hotch, and Rossi will find us," Emily said sincerely. Her voice was stern, yet promising.

With her free hand, JJ wiped her eyes and sniffled, "Hopefully."

Garcia nodded in agreement, embracing the other blonde for a quick hug. JJ happily wrapped her arms around her. It was so cold and the hug was given them the warmth that they had been wanting. 

"I hope Morgan is okay." Penelope muttered, resting her chin on JJ's shoulder.

"I'm sure he's fine. These guys have been planning this for a long time, but I doubt they have experience." Prentiss rubbed comforting circles on JJ's exposed back.

The women heard approaching footsteps so they fell silent and moved away from each other's touch. Johnny appeared from the shadows, splattered blood staining his face and shirt. Garcia glared while shock painted the other two's faces. Penelope stood up, rushing to the cell door and gripping the bars tightly. 

"What the hell did you do to Derek?" She asked loudly, her voice echoing through the room.

The criminal chuckled, wiping at his face and smearing the red liquid on his skin. 

"Garcia," JJ whispered, grabbing at her ankles and hoping to get her to back off.

Emily taped the floor before her, trying to get the angry woman's attention. Both knew it wasn't a good idea to make these guys mad. They should be obeying and trying to earn their trust - so if Hotch and Rossi were to take longer than expected, their chances of survival would increase. However, Garcia was furious and her main focus was Johnny.

"This blood is from his hand." He started voice low and laced with joy. "I took a fork from the wall, scratching the palm of his hand until it turned as red as the blood on his face." He mimicked the movement as he explained it, "And then, I forced it into his palm. It tore through his skin and muscle, perhaps even the bone." Johnny snickered, "He tried so hard not to scream, but I knew it was quite possibly the worst thing he's ever experienced. More so when I ripped it out and there was nothing but blood."

The blond walked away as Garcia's expression shifted from angry to terrified. Her eyes widened, tears glossing over them. She stepped back from the door, falling backwards onto the ground and bringing her knees to her chest. She felt sick to her stomach - JJ and Emily felt the same way. 

Emily was shocked - she had thought they were inexperienced, but perhaps they were more prepared than she thought. 

As Penelope cried, her friends hugged her tightly. With that, they felt warm again, though they still shivered. 

"We will get through this," Emily quietly promised.

They grew silent once again, enjoying each other's presence. At least they were together. The traumatic experience would be more painful if they had been seperated - lonely, and cold. Then, JJ realized that's just what Reid was going through now. And, eventually, when it's Spencer's turn to serve time in the box, Morgan would be experiencing the same thing.

"I wish the boys were with us. They're going to be so lonely at one point." The mom felt her heart drop just thinking about what it was like to not have anybody there.

"They're strong. They'll figure out a way to cope." Prentiss paused, figuring she could also lighten the mood by stating how they were both in good hands, "With Reid's knowledge, they'll probably be able to treat each other's injuries."

That was reassuring, but their minds immediatley went to the fact that they were being tortured in the first place.

Will rushed into the building of the BAU, a baby chewing on his own thumbs in his arms. He handed Henry off to a lady who agreed to watch him and headed to the roundtable room where Rossi and Hotch were discussing the matters.

Upon his arrival, there was no greeting or small talk, they were straight to the point.

"What is the name of the place JJ said she was going? The place she went to before Garcia's." Hotch questioned.

Will paused for a second in thought before replying, "Cloak and Dagger."

"Looks like we're taking a trip to Cloak and Dagger," Rossi said, grabbing his phone off the table and fleaing to their SUV.

Upon their arrival at the club, they noticed it was completely empty. Typically a few people would be scattered around the bar, enjoying a few drinks but they found none of that. Instead, an agitated bartendar was cleaning the counters, brows furrowed and expression annoyed. Hotch and Rossi confronted him with their badges, and the bartendar stepped back a bit. He clearly wasn't too fond of the FBI.

"Have you seen these people?" Aaron pulled a photo from his pocket - creases from being folded too many times to count causing white lines to form. Still, it was easily readible. It was a picture from a christmas party. Spencer and Derek hugged each other goofily, big toothy smiles on their faces. Emily had JJ on her back for a piggyback ride and Penelope was front and center, on her knees and posing widly for the camera. It hurt Hotch's heart to look at it knowing they were in pain or worse.

The bartender took one quick look and shook his head. His mannerisms annoyed the men - especially Will. His girlfriend was missing and this guy had no respect to offer.

"They went missing over the weekend and the last place they were at was this club," Rossi stated as Hotch folded the photo back up and placed it in his pocket.

"I've never seen those people," The bartender insisted, a hint of attitude in his voice as he spoke to the older man.

Will glared, slamming his hand down on the bar, "If you're lying, I will find out."

The man ignored him completely, causing him to grit his teeth in frusteration.

"Where's your parking lot?" Rossi asked.

The bartender harshly placed his rag down and escorted the men outside, down an alley and to the parking garage. Immediatley, they caught sight of an isolated black SUV in the distance.

"Are there any security camera's?" Aaron stared at the car as if his team would come out of the car at any moment - but the windows revealed that it was empty.

He nodded, directing them to security where the man responsible for the tapes responded. They thanked him and the bartender walked off. As they walked into security, they noticed a man leaned back in his chair and sleeping. Rossi tapped his shoulder and he woke up with a gasp. The FBI agents revealed their badges, both with intimidating looks as Will examined the room.

"How may I help you fellas?" He asked nervously.

"A crime has been committed here," Rossi stated.

"What can I do?"

"Do you have tapes of saturday night?" Hotch requested and the man nodded.

"I need a time range." He said, sliding a tape with saturday's date on it. 

The agents turned to Will. The man dug through his brain, trying to remember when JJ left the house.

"Ten pm to very early morning Sunday." He eventually replied.

The security guard quickly fast fowarded through the tape. They saw the time change quickly as he did so. Nothing really occured - a car didn't even drive inside till five pm. Eventually, they see their SUV pull up and their team walk out, happy and carefree. It made Hotch cringe. A few hours passed and they notice a white van pull up. Hotch quickly tells him to pause it and he does so. Unfortuantley, they can't get sight of a license plate because the van is facing the other direction to the camera. So, they continue fowarding the tape until they see their victims walk back into the garage.

"That's them!" Rossi exclaims.

The tape slows to normal speed. The men watch as their beloved friends and family notice just how fishy the van is. Morgan and Emily walking to the car - the men bursting out - Penelope and Spencer running away together just to be caught. The sight was awfully horrifying. When JJ was the last one left standing, Will's heart shattered into a million pieces. She was left by herself with six men. It was even more heartbreaking when she ran away, only to be caught and drugged.

The tape is paused once again and the profilers stepped out, Will rubbing his eyes as a stress headache pulsated against his forehead.

"So let's start with what we know. It's a group of six caucasion men, one blond and the rest brunet. They have access to drugs and they drive a white van." Hotch announced.

"It isn't much, but it's better than nothing," Rossi commented.

Aaron nodded, walking back into the booth. He requests for the tapes and the guard gives it to him with no further questions. As they drive home, Hotch asks Rossi to call a useful contact: Kevin Lynch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as much as i hate kevin, he's needed.


	4. How We Survive

His eyes were closed, breathing heavy - but steady. Derek was dissociating from the unbearable pain, his mind wandering elsewhere. Suddenly, he was at the BAU. Penelope and her smiling face was there. He disheveled Spencer's brown hair and kissed Penelope's cheek. And Hotch was there, grinning. JJ and Emily laugh and Penelope joins in, even though she's not sure what they're laughing at. Rossi teases them and they laugh some more.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door slams against the wall and his eyes open. Johnny, accompanied by Milo who held handcuffs, approach him. In the hand of the smaller man is a pistol, the safety off and finger on the trigger. Morgan swallowed hard. 

"If you try to get away," Johnny paused, a sick smile growing on his lips. He raised his gun and pointed it towards the ceiling, waving it around, "I'll kill Stringbean right in front of you."

Derek gave a slow, shaky nod to show he understood, eyes locked on Milo's shiny boots. Milo placed the handcuffs between his teeth, reaching up to free his wrists. As he put his arm down, his shoulder seared with pain since he had been in that position for so long. Both his arms were set free and he fought the urge to bash their heads together. He was far too weak to successfully knock them both out cold - it'd be too risky.

As the restraints around his ankles were taken off, he stared at his palm. The cloth that had been pinned around was completely soaked with blood. The crimson liquid leaked through the material and ran down his arms. It was a sickening sight.

Once he was free, he stepped on the cold floor, avoiding contact with his stab wound. His bones cracked and his muscles tightened. Morgan lifted his injured foot off the ground as Milo cuffed his hands behind his back. To his surprise, Johnny assisted him as they walked down the cold halls. Goosebumps formed on his bare skin and he began shivering. He had almost forgotten just how cold the halls were. He paid close attention to any possible escape routes, making sure to memorize the ways of the halls. 

Eventually, two wide doors were swung open and the air seemed to be even colder than the hallway - if that was even possible. Examining the new room, he realized it was a mess hall of some sort. His eyes found Spencer. Knees to his chest, face buried and arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. A weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders as he saw the younger agent, knowing he was okay. He was uncuffed. Johnny removed his arm that had been helping him walk and wandered off.

Derek let out soft grunts as he tried to catch his balance, but he failed and fell to the ground. An abrupt yelp left his lips as pain erupted throughout his body. The broken bones, the stab wounds. He was no longer able to mask his pain. His scream caused Reid to flinch and look up. Finding Morgan, on the floor and in pain, sent him into a panic. The lanky boy rushed to his side with a “Morgan!”, and helping him to his feet, using all the strength he could build up. He helped the injured man to the table carefully. Morgan’s face twisted in pain and he gritted his teeth. 

Once they were sat, Spencer assessed his injuries. All the bruises and blood caused him to be nauseous. He had never seen Derek like that. Bruises layered his abdomen and collar bone and blood was all over his arm. Carefully, he removed the cloth around his palm. Four deep holes presented themselves and Reid’s eyes widened. Derek slowly lifted his injured foot into his lap and the material around that was taken off too. A large gash stared Reid right in the face and it was sickening.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Spencer assured quietly.

Derek shook his head, “I can’t handle that again. I don’t want anybody else serving time in there either.”

“Derek!” Penelope’s loud voice echoed through the cafeteria and before Morgan had any time to react, her warm arms were snaked gently around his bruised, bare torso.

Emily grabbed his uninjured hand, intertwining their fingers together as she sat across from him at the table. 

“Are you okay?” JJ quietly asked, brows pulling together.

Derek’s gaze slowly fell to stare blankly at the table. He focused on a chip in the material as he spoke with such a horror in his tone, it caused their hearts to ache.

“They’ve been preparing for this for a long time.” He started shakily, breath hitched. “I think I was their first ever victim. There are weapons hung on the wall. There’s so much you can’t even tell what color the walls are. Knives, forks, saws.” 

When he finally paused, he realized his cheeks were wet and he had been crying. Penelope cupped his face and ran her thumb across his skin, smearing his tears away. Nobody had ever seen Derek in such a state. So terrified. Looking up, he found that his friends were in tears as well. There were mixed emotions around the table; 'we are going to die' and 'we have to get out of here'. 

The room fell silent as they were served their final meal of the day, which wasn’t a meal at all, but a water bottle. When they walked away, Emily cleared her throat, blinking away her tears.

“It’s better than nothing.” She stated softly.

Morgan’s grip on her hand went away as he quickly downed his water. He hadn’t been fed since he got there and he was desperate. As he drank his water, Reid took his hand and examined it closely, trying to stray away from how bad it looked and worry only about how to treat it.

“It looks like you need stitches, but for now, we have to figure out how to stop the bleeding,” Spencer informed as Derek finally put his water down. His skin was a bit pale and his cheeks were red. Spencer would do anything to help.

Penelope took a glance at his injury and quickly looked away to JJ, pupils shrunken in fear, “Oh, my poor baby.”

JJ leaned in as if she didn’t want their captors to hear a word that came out of her mouth, “What if we ask for medical supplies. We know they’re not willing to kill us. We can try and convince them.”

Garcia agreed and swung her legs out from under the table to turn around and face the men. She raised her hand, asking for permission to speak. The rules stayed firmly in the front of her mind, she didn’t want to mess up.

“What?” Weston approached her, making it known he had a gun in his hand.

Penelope swallowed hard, trying to keep steady. “May we have gauze or stitches? We’re worried something really bad will happen to him if he doesn’t get the help he needs.”

Weston put a pausing index finger up before leaving to walk towards Milo. He repeated the question quietly in the other man’s ear. However, Weston didn’t return. Instead, Milo shuffled toward them with a friendly smile.

“Hello, prisoners. I’m willing to give you medical supplies if I get something in return.” 

“What do you want?” Emily asked lowly, glaring at the man.

“I’ll give you some time to discuss.” He crossed his arms behind his back and left before further questions could be voiced.

“What do you think he wants?” Garcia asked once he walked away.

“I’m not sure. It’s weird. Maybe he wants to torture us more somehow.” Spencer suggested. He wasn’t sure how many more ways they could torture them. They were already getting physically and psychologically tortured - how much more could they take? “Perhaps he wants our clothes.”

JJ shook her head, “We’re in our underwear, Spence.”

“Exactly. The more we’re embarrassed, the better they feel.” Reid replied.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” Morgan promised.

Without missing a second, Emily stood, “I’ll offer something.”

“No, Emily!” Derek exclaimed, reaching out to grab her wrist.

However, Milo was already on his way to pick up their conversation.

“What do you offer?” He asked, a devilish smirk growing on his face.

“I believe you want a piece of clothing?”

Milo shook his head, “No.”

With that, he roughly grabbed Emily’s shoulder and connected his fist harshly with the side of her face, inflaming the bruise that already surrounded her eye. The raven-haired girl fell to the ground, hitting her head on a chair and grabbing her face.

“Hey!” JJ shouted, standing threateningly from her seat, fists balled. 

“Watch it! Watch what you do!” Milo warned, grabbing Prentiss by her hair and wagging his finger in JJ’s face. “I have all my mens guns aimed at the scrawny one! One wrong move and he goes down in a hail of bullets! You want him to die because of you?”

Spencer gasped, looking around the room only to find that he wasn’t bluffing. The other five men were cornered around the room, the barrel of their pistols pointed directly at his head.

JJ exhaled sharply, keeping her raging eyes glued on Milo as she sat down. The man pulled Emily to her feet by her hair and sat her back down at the table. He rushed out of the cafeteria and into the halls.

“Prentiss, you didn’t have to do that,” Morgan whispered, fresh tears forming in his eyes. He grabbed her hand comfortingly and she gave him a soft squeeze.

“I did. It’ll heal on its own. You, on the other hand, need stitches.” Emily assured. She was being completely genuine. It was one of the things to love about her, how she was so willing to take one for the team. 

Her dark purple eye had completely swelled shut by the time Milo returned with a first aid kit. He set it down, flashing a toothy grin to Emily before leaving to stand by the door.

Immediately, Spencer began digging through the kit. He pulled out a small bottle of alcohol as well as a few Q-tips since there was no access to cotton balls. He soaked the supply with alcohol, making sure to be resourceful since he was unsure if they would get any more alcohol if they were to run out.

“This is going to hurt,” Reid warned, grabbing his wrist with one hand as the other held the prepared Q-tip.

“Just do it, kid,” Morgan said.

With a nod, he swiped the cotton over the first hole on his hand. It began fizzing and Morgan hissed through his teeth. He quietly apologized, moving on to clean the other three holes in his hand. Emily made sure to hold his hand tightly through it all.

Once the wounds were as clean as they could get, Spencer moved on to the needle and thin thread in the kit. He threaded the sterilized needle quickly and stuck it into his skin without a warning.

“Ow!” Derek flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized once again, quickly pulling his skin together.

Each hole only needed a few stitches, it was over in no time. Once his hand was stitched up, Garcia offered her water to clean his hand up completely, while Reid moved on to clean his foot.

Derek tried his hardest to focus on the cool feeling of the water streaming on his hand and running down his arms, but the burning sensation in his foot as the alcohol met with his skin was too overwhelming. He gritted his teeth.

Spencer knew his foot needed extra care than what he could provide. He needed stitches on the inside as well to connect the muscles together, but he didn’t have the practice or supplies to do so. Still, he needed to stop the bleeding. So, he sewed his skin together and hoped it would stay for as long as they were there. He added gauze around for extra care.

Shortly after, they are cuffed and taken back to their cells. Derek was having a much harder time getting around than he wanted, but it was better now that his foot was secured and he was able to at least press down with his toes. 

At first, the boys sat on opposite sides of the cell, bare backs pressed against the cold walls as shivers ran up and down their poor, exposed bodies. Derek stared at the floor, lost in thought. Spencer was unsure of what he was thinking about. Eventually, the smaller man quickly moved over to the man he considered an older brother. When Morgan looked up from the floor, he saw Reid’s sad doe-like eyes, accompanied by an even sadder trembling lip. Gently, Spencer wrapped his arms around the man, being careful not to touch his bruised abdomen. After a moment, Morgan hugged him back.

“I’d never been more scared in my life, Morgan.” He mumbled, voice low in case one of their captors would walk by.

When the injured man didn’t reply, Reid continued.

“Rossi and Hotch will find us.” 

“Hopefully soon,” Morgan replied.

There was so much fear laced in his voice and Spencer picked it up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Morgan shook his head, “We just have to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“I’ve been thinking about that actually,” Reid moved to sit in front of him, folding his hands uncomfortably in his lap. “We know they won’t kill us, maybe we can escape after all. We could ask to use the bathroom - a real bathroom, there are a few in the halls, and hopefully one of us can escape. We’d have to gain their trust first.”

“We’ll have to tell the girls tomorrow.”

Garcia was, in a word, sobbing. She was frantic, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. The other two women were by her side, rubbing her back or arm, hoping to calm her down.

“Deep breaths, Penelope. You’re going to hyperventilate.” Emily warned, hand rubbing her back in a circle.

One glance at Emily’s swollen eye and Garcia began crying again.

“He looked so awful!” She wailed, putting her wrist beneath her nose to hopefully suppress her cries.

“He got treatment and he has Reid. Morgan is going to be fine.” Emily reassured, staring seriously into her eyes so she understood just how genuine she was.

JJ was seemingly just as distraught as Penelope, she was doing a better job at masking it. Emily could see through her disguise, though.

“Do you think we’ll be rescued in time?” JJ asked, brows pulling together.

The room fell silent, besides Garcia’s hiccups and shaky sharp inhales.

“We should start obeying them.” Emily blurted out, “If we gain their trust it’ll be harder to torture us, harder to kill us. We have to give them what they want. Give them validation because it’s obvious that they need it. They’re seeking revenge, they’re obviously embarrassed about what we did to them. We have to make it known that we regret it.”

Rossi, Hotch, and Will stood in Garcia’s office. Her bright knickknacks and fuzzy pens were an awful reminder that she didn’t deserve what they assumed she was going through; torture. The thought of finding Penelope bloody and bruised was a stab to their already aching hearts.

Kevin Lynch sat at her office chair, having difficulty adjusting it to his height. He had tried to identify the men in the tape, but his skills were limited and he was unable to. They had moved way too fast to get a perfect frame, so they sent the tapes elsewhere, with promised results in a few days.

“Can you track JJ’s phone?” Hotch requested. “Find out where it is.”

Kevin stopped adjusting the chair and nodded, hands flying to the keyboard. Will read off JJ’s number to him as he typed away. Eventually, a screen popped up with four different yellow, blinking dots. Kevin inserted a few more codes before three of those dots faded away.

“Yorktown, Virginia.” He stated.

Hotch stepped away for a moment, a million possibilities flooding his mind. Yorktown was two hours away, meaning the kidnappers had no intention of staying in the area. They could be anywhere. Hell, they could be across the country and he and Rossi would have no chance of getting to them in time. Reid’s statistics crossed his mind for a moment: 80% of abductions end in murder. 

“Are you alright?” Rossi’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Hotch nodded, turning around to Kevin as Will examined the computer screen, “We’re going to Yorktown. Kevin, stay here in case anything else comes up.”

The trip to Yorktown was dead silent. They had nothing to speak about. Even if they did, they couldn’t bring themselves to have a conversation while their loved ones were out there. 

Eventually, they stop on the side of the busy highway, which is where the cell phones were located. Rossi was the first one to jump over the guard rail, followed by the other two. They walked a few feet into the tall grass before coming across five cell phones. 

Will quickly rushed back to the SUV to retrieve gloves and slipped them on. He picked them up, “Maybe the answer is in their phone calls or text history.”

However, Will looked through each one and came up with yet another dead end. With a heavy sigh, Hotch gathered plastic bags to send their phones in for DNA.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter, kudos and comments are all appreciated :)


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